The 66th Annual Hunger Games
by JDon987
Summary: The 66th annual hunger games have arrived and with it a young boy with almost no applicable skills is reaped from district seven. Can he beat the odds? Or will he become just another forgotten tribute?
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the hunger games, just my own characters in the story_**

Once again, the day has come about. With never-ending consistency the reaping day for the Hunger Games comes around every year. Like every other year for the past four years I am sure that this will be the day that I am reaped. While this has yet to occur in any of the previous four years, I feel certain that this time I will be unable to avoid it.

"Arb, hurry up and come have breakfast you lazy dope."

That was my darling big brother Felix calling me to breakfast. And while he calls me Arb, it's actually short for Arbor, which literally means tree. You can see that I am the youngest-third- of my brothers and by that point my parents didn't care. Felix is now 23 and has long since aged out of the reaping with my middle brother Alder being 18 and in his final year of the reaping. Overall, we are wealthier than most families in District 7, with both my parents pulling the easier and better paid job of paper-making. They often complain that it's monotonous but they do acknowledge that it is far easier than a job as a lumberjack.

Due to this extra wealth none of us kids had to get Tessera to help feed the family and so I have 5 slips in the reaping bowl this year and Alder has 7. This has likely been a huge factor in why I have not been reaped the past 4 years. With many of the poorer families' kids being forced to take out Tessera, the chances that I will be picked is very low which means I should theoretically be more relaxed. This remains theoretical because it reality I am a nervous wreck.

"Come on honey, your breakfast is getting cold." My Mom tells me as a way of greeting.

This day always brings her stress, I think as I watch her babble on to my Father about nothing in particular. I know she worries about us and as we grow up and obtain more slips in the reaping bowl it gets worse for her. When Felix graduated from the reaping she broke down in tears and hugged everyone in the family.

I look down at my breakfast and see that it is two slices of stale bread that Mom purchased at the shop a week ago. I can even see some parts where she has cut off what was likely the beginning of mold. While we are one of the wealthier families this does not mean that we eat like kings, more like the kings servants on a bad day really.

"So Alder, this is your last reaping, are you ready?" My Dad asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be I guess." My brother responds

My mother puts on a strained smile "Yes, well even in your last year, the chances that you get drawn are very low, same to you Arb."

"I'm not too worried Mom" I lie

"Well we've got an hour until we need to go down the reaping so why don't you two clean up and get ready?"

My brother and I trudge off to our rooms and he decides that as the oldest, he should have the privilege of taking the first cold-water bath. We currently do have continuous running water for the Hunger Games and so this is not the big deal that it can be in other times of the year.

While he takes his bath, I wander around my small room, my reaping clothes laid out on my bed. I consider what my Mother said at breakfast, it's true that the odds of me being reaped are very low or-as the capital would say- 'the odds are in my favour'. Yet, I can't help this feeling that it is my turn to be reaped. I examine myself in the mirror and conclude that if it is indeed my name that is called, I will be in a lot of trouble. While I am fed better than most, I still lack any real muscle that would give me an advantage. I am quite intelligent, one of the top of my year at school, but not in the realms of the district three victors who use the environment to win the games on smarts. I'm also reasonably decent looking, but we are coming off the year that Finnick Odair won his games due to his good looks (and a deadly bloody trident) and in comparison, I will look like a dead slug. I can't think of a single advantage that I would have that could help me. Thankfully, I am spared having to think more on this depressing subject as my brother has finally finished his bath, graciously allowing me to take one myself.

An hour later and we have all migrated down to the town square for the ceremony. I am standing with the other 16 year old boys from the district, nervously peering up at the platform where our escort is having a conversation with the town mayor and our most recent victor: the winner of the 59th Hunger Games, Elizabeth Boury. The escort himself is a middle aged man named Marcellus and he looks like a kid on Christmas morning with how excited he is. We wait for what feels like eternity until the clock ticks over and the reaping can begin. First, our mayor comes up to the microphone to give us the annual hunger games speech. Our mayor is an older lady who is maybe a little plumper than the rest of us. She looks tired and worn out and there has been speculation that she will resign in the near future. The speech she gives us is the usual one where we hear about how we horrifically rose up against the loving Capitol and how after losing said uprising, we were granted mercy from the gracious Capitol by being presented with the Hunger Games, an annual event that would remind us of the Capitols mercy. We have all heard this speech so many times before that any of us could go up and deliver it rather than the mayor, yet that doesn't stop the Capitol from graciously repeating it every year. Finally, the mayor finishes up and requests Marcellus to come up to the microphone to officially begin the reaping.

"Hello there everyone, I'm just ecstatic to be back here in district seven where I see many worthy kids here who could proudly represent this great district. Sadly though there can only be two selected so why don't we begin with the girls?"

He makes a big show of delving deep into the bowl before picking out a slip of paper.

"Cassiah Krick."

I don't recognize the name and when I look up I see a girl who looks about 15 walking up the stairs steadily, her face determinedly blank although I can see a twitch every now and again on her left side. She's quite pretty, though not enough to provide much of an advantage and I can't help but think that she's unlikely to be a contender"

"Lovely, lovely and now on to the male tribute."

Again, he makes an annoying spectacle of reaching right into the bottom of the bowl to find the right slip and after what seems like 10 minutes he re-emerges with a satisfied grin.

I remember quickly about the bad feeling that I will be reaped, but before I can really think about it Marcellus is already reading out the name on the paper.

"Arbor Schooler."


	2. Chapter 2

Shock. I'm in complete shock. I know that I always felt that I would get reaped, but deep down I never _really_ thought I would get reaped. It's like how Mom said, the odds were so low it shouldn't have happened. I come out of it when I feel a solid push at my back. I look behind me and see that a peacekeeper has come behind me and is shoving me towards the stage. Everyone is looking at me and I dimly think that I may have been out of it for a fair minute or so. When I finally get to the stage I am instructed to shake my fellow tributes (Cassie was it?) hand as Marcellus says:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your district seven tributes for the 66th Annual Hunger Games."

We're quickly whipped off to the town hall where we can say goodbye to our loved ones before we leave. We are given one hour after which we will be escorted onto the train.

I sit there in the plush and fancy room in the town hall trying to calm myself enough to talk to my family. There are cameras outside for when we are done and while I don't think I can win, I do have self-respect and do not want to be seen crying by the entire nation.

Soon after my family comes bounding in; my Mom leading the way, tears running down her face.

"My boy, my sweet boy!" she cries as she takes me into her arms.

I hug her tightly, knowing that this will most likely be the last time I see her. We stay like that for a minute or so before we both step back and my brothers and Father edge closer.

"You'll be OK Arb, you always managed to avoid us when we're angry and you can do the same here." Felix says this with a false smile and very little belief.

"Yea, you have a knack for escaping impossible situations." Alder adds, also lacking in any real belief.

"Boys please, stop talking." My father admonishes them.

"Now son." he continues. "We understand this will be horrible for you and all we ask is that you try your best and don't worry about what we think of you."

"That's right." My mother nods between sobs. "Whatever you have to do, we'll understand, it's not your fault."

"Thanks guys, I'll try." I say.

"And that's all we ask."

We sit there together for another minute before a peacekeeper is coming in telling us our time is up and then we're all saying 'I love you' until they are forced out the door. Then I am sitting in silence, the full weight of what is happening sinking in. It is almost with relief that I hear the door open again and I see my best friend Ash walk through the door. I say best friend because I am really more of a loner and so is he I think, but me and Ash always work together on group projects and sit together at lunchtimes. He sits down awkwardly, clearly unsure of how he should act.

"I'm sorry man, I can't believe your name was drawn." He says, looking down at his shoes.

"Yea, I always thought it would happen, but I still can't believe it you know?"

"Yea, I know. Guess I'll have to find a new school partner eh?"

"Yea, I suppose so."

We sit there in silence for a minute or so before he rises to his feet.

"Well, good luck out there, I hope you win."

"Thanks, you never know I guess."

He smiles at me, knowing that neither of us really believe that I can win this. He goes to the door and looks back inside one last time before leaving and closing the door. I sit there in silence for the rest of the hour, with no one else coming to see me off. All I can think about is how I can't win this and about how little I have lived my life so far. I have one almost friend and my family, no one else even cared enough to see me off or wish me luck. I'm still thinking along these lines when the peacekeepers come in to escort me to the train.


	3. Chapter 3

The cameras outside the waiting rooms are merciless as we walk towards the car that has been provided. I look over at Cassie and see that she has been crying and even now she seems to be sniffling. I look up at the screens and see that I don't look too much better. While I haven't been crying my eyes seem extra bright and I look a bit skittish.

It's a relief when we finally reach the car and the outside world can be ignored. I look around and see Cassie folding in on herself in the corner of the car while Marcellus looks like it's his birthday.

"Well done kids, the camera's loved you." He says. "Just wait until you see the train, it's like nothing you've seen before."

The full weight of the situation has hit me and I am starting to feel quite detached from the moment. I barely manage a polite smile at that and then go back to looking out the window. I can still just see the town square and I wonder of this is the last image of district seven that I will ever see. The car ride goes by in a blur and before I know it I'm being bungled on to the train. There are cameras there but I can't be bothered to check how I look. With my current feeling of apathy I doubt that I look anything other than bored. Marcellus shows us to our rooms; mine on the left, Cassies on the right, and tells us that dinner will be served soon.

I open the door to find a room that seems impossibly grand. It is at least five times the size as my room at home and has a bed that stretches seemingly forever. These conditions seem incomprehensible to me and all I do to process it is lie down on the bed, sinking into the incredibly soft mattress. I think I must fall asleep because the next thing I know Marcellus is banging on my door calling me to dinner.

When I arrive to the dining room I see that our mentors are there. This year it seems that Elizabeth Boury and Blight Roland have the honour of helping us and seeing as Cassie is already talking to Elizabeth, Blight must be my mentor. Of course his name isn't really blight, I think it was actually Jack or something like that. He just got that nickname in his games when he poisoned multiple competitors. The Capitol thought it was a very clever nickname for someone from district seven.

I sit down at the table for the first time and I see Blight turn his attention to me. He looks me over and while he hides it well, I can tell that he is not particularly impressed. Nonetheless, he smiles at me and extends his hand towards me.

"Hey, I'm you're mentor, Blight, you're Arbor right?" he says gently

"Yep, that's me." I reply, faking a smile

"Well, I'm sorry you got reaped, but we'll try figure something out OK?"

"Sounds good, do we need to talk strategy then?"

He dismisses this with a wave of the hand. "Nah, we don't get to the Capitol till tomorrow, tonight we'll just eat dinner and watch the reapings."

I have no problem with this as I would prefer to put off thinking about the arena for as long as I can and I'm starving, having eaten very little this morning so I reply "Sounds good to me, I feel like I haven't eaten for days anyway."

He laughs at this and tells me to dig in, saying that "The foods the best part of being a tribute anyway."

Dinner turns out to be amazing, with dishes that I've never even heard of before. I especially like the seafood, specifically something called lobster which tastes incredible. The only blemish on the evening is when Marcellus pulls up my fellow tribute, whose name turns out to be Cassiah, for eating pork chops with her hands. Apparently this is not acceptable dinner etiquette in the Capitol and Marcellus looks like he's going to freak when she apologizes and wipes her hands on the table cloth.

After dinner, dessert is brought out by servants that I learn are called Avoxes. They are traitors that have had their tongues cut out, which is seriously disturbing. My stomach is bursting after dinner, but I decide to make headway into the ice-cream and fruit salad anyway, just so it doesn't go to waste. After a while the conversation dries up and it seems that we can't eat anymore. Blight looks at his watch and suggests that we watch the reaping.

"Good idea, I can't wait to see who this years competitors are." Marcellus enthuses, clapping his hands and getting up to go into the viewing room. I raise an eyebrow at Blight who just shrugs before walking off towards the viewing room. I follow him and find myself a seat on by myself and ready myself to analyse my future competitors. Blight fumbles with the remote before finding the reaping recap.

It starts in district one with a mad dash to the stage to volunteer. It doesn't look like the most efficient system but regardless, the escort introduces a girl named Shine and a boy named Dazzle as the tributes from district one. Both names are ridiculous but I won't be telling them that. Dazzle is a monster of a human being while Shine is quite pretty and also very clearly lean and athletic, definitely two tributes to avoid in the arena. It doesn't get any better for the district two reaping with there being again two volunteers, this time a girl named Petro and a boy named Marius. Petro is a tall, muscled girl who looks gigantic compared to her surprisingly small fellow tribute. I choose to assume that Marius must have other strengths. District three is thankfully not a career district, but I note that the girl tribute looks quite cunning and intelligent and choose not to discount her. District four follow this up with two more volunteers, the girl doesn't look overly impressive but the boy, Marcus, looks very threatening. District 5 and six look pretty unimpressive and then the recap moves on to district seven.

Cassiah looks terrified and again all I can think is that she'll be easy pickings. Then it goes to me and I see that unfortunately I look terrified instead of shocked and the push in the back from the peacekeeper makes me look like a coward. I sneak a look at Blight and I see that he looks resigned already. This angers me somewhat but before I can say anything the reaping moves on to district 8 and I go back to watch the screen again. District eight is unimpressive as is district nine, though the girl looks at least a little determined. The boy from district ten is almost career sized while the girl is just another averaged sized tribute. The coverage goes over district eleven and twelve who unsurprisingly look weak and underfed before the reaping finishes and Blight turns off the television.

We sit there in silence, digesting the faces of who we will be going up against. I want to press Blight to get started on my strategy, but before I can he tells us that we should go to bed. Unfortunately, I do feel quite tired and I can see Cassiah yawning as well so ultimately we both trudge off to our rooms. Neither of us seems inclined to talk to the other so we stay in silence until we reach the end of the hall, and then we each say goodnight and enter our rooms.

I decide to have a shower before going to bed and this turns out to be a learning experience. I can't figure out what on earth any of these settings do and after being covered in glitter and then a shampoo that smells like cinnamon, I settle for a setting that has scalding hot water that at least gets me clean, though I'm left feeling raw. Despite the drama of the day and the unfamiliar bed, I find myself asleep in mere minutes.

The next day starts early with Marcellus hammering on my door telling me to get up and ready. I groggily dress myself in some of the clothes they have provided for us and head down to the table. Cassiah isn't here yet when I sit down but Elizabeth and Blight are there talking about something I don't know about.

"So, are we talking strategy today?" I ask

Blight turns towards me and gives me that same friendly and sympathetic smile.

"That's right, straight after breakfast, I've got you and Liz here has Cassiah."

Elizabeth smiles politely at this and soon we settle into a comfortable silence. Cassiah comes in five minutes later and sits down. After some time, we finish breakfast and Blight stands up.

"Ok guys, we're going to have a preliminary strategy meeting. Do you guys want to do this as a group or individually?"

I'm about to say that it doesn't bother me to do it as a group when Cassiah pipes up for the first time.

"Individually."

I turn to look at her, wondering what she has to hide from me. But Blight just nods his head and takes me into a separate room.

"Ok, so I should probably get a good idea of your skills then. What can you do?" he asks

I try to think of what my skills are but honestly can't think of much, I'm pretty unimpressive after all.

"I'm pretty smart and observant. I'm also pretty strong compared to others in my class." That last one is actually a bit of a stretch honestly. I'm probably stronger than some though.

Blights facial expression doesn't change but I sense that he isn't impressed by my meager list of skills. He looks at me and asks "Ok, so how do you want to play the games then?"

I'm a bit confused by this. "I don't know, isn't that where you come in?"

"Ideally, sure. But I don't really have anything for someone who has no skills." He states calmly.

I look at him in shock. Here I was expecting help and yet it turns out that my mentor is completely useless. I fell myself getting angry and can't help but say, in a rising voice. "Well you don't seem to have any skills, yet you won. How did you _play the games_ then _?_ "

"Me? I poisoned a few competitors and then got lucky that the career pack forgot about me. They dissolved into a fight early and the last of them left was pretty wounded. I managed to defeat them." He says.

I can't believe this. My mentor has no idea how to win the hunger games. I realize I am completely on my own. There will be no one to help me, no one to trust. I decide to trust only myself.

"So, you can't help me at all then?"

"Not really, I can help for the interviews with my experience, but it's up to you anyway in the arena."

I admit that this is true to a large degree, but I am so angry at him that I refuse to admit this and so instead I just nod and stalk off to my room. Once I am inside however, there is no containing my anger. I punch the walls, kick my bed, and scream into my pillow. Anything to rid myself of this helpless rage bottled up inside of me. The rage never seems to disappear and instead continues to grow and by the time I'm finished my rooms quite a mess. I hear Marcellus insistently knocking on the door asking if everything is ok. I choose to ignore him, hoping that he will eventually leave. He finally does after some time.

I'm still angry but I can finally think rationally and I realize I am going to have to think about strategy. Having seen the rest of the competitors it's obvious that I'm not about to win on strength. I'm also not better looking than most of them so sponsors aren't really going to help me. There is only really one way that I am going to win the hunger games and that's by staying calm throughout and outsmarting the others. This method seems just as unlikely to work, I'm do district three tribute after all but it at least gives me something to cling to. I refuse to set myself a concrete plan as those never work in the arena, instead I decide to have a vague idea of what I want to work on and then try to implement that into a workable plan on the fly. I will of course need to work on survival skills if I am to survive what is guaranteed to be a harsh environment. I will probably need to develop some kind of proficiency in a weapon to survive, hopefully I'll have a natural talent at one of the offered stations.

Slowly, a plan is forming in my mind. It's quite possible that it won't matter, but I already feel more comfortable knowing that I have some sort of plan of action to stick to. I start to think about what I will need to work on in training when the knocks at the door return, accompanied by Marcellus's Capitol voice. Apparently we are nearing the Capitol and I will need to come out of my room. I look myself in the mirror and straighten my hair before I leave my room and head to the dining room.

There I find the rest of the team waiting, though Blights movements seem slow and his face seems a bit flushed; clear signs that he has indulged in a few drinks after our talk. I consider that it might be hard for him to be unable to help me and wonder if maybe I was a bit harsh with him.

I look around and see Cassiah at the window, looking at the view as we zoom past. Seeing as you can't see anything other than pitch blackness as we travel through what I assume is a cave, this strikes me as slightly odd. I'm about to go ask her what she's doing when suddenly there is overwhelming light filling the dining room, blinding me. When I regain my vision I see the Capitol first-hand for the first time.

It's amazing. There's no other way to describe it. The way the sun reflects off the buildings, the cars that fly through the streets. Hell, even the people look amazing from here, the people's different colors blending together perfectly in a seemingly impossible way; creating an almost rainbow-like effect. I continue to stare at these people that look so different to any others I have seen until I realize that the train is slowing to a stop. Now, I switch my gaze to Cassiah. Unlike me she was not overawed by the beauty of the Capitol and instead stood there waving at the people, who happily wave back. I look closer at Cassiah and realize that I have written her off too easily. She may not look like much, but she clearly has a plan which means she definitely hasn't given up hope. It seems that I have another opponent that I must be wary of.

I switch my gaze back to the window which now looks onto the platform, our train having finally stopped. The people no longer look incredible up close. Instead, they now look ridiculous, spoilt even. They barely resemble human beings at this point and the lavish riches that they blatantly show-off make me feel ill. Yet even as I feel my disgust for these creatures rise, I find myself smiling and waving. These people may be awful, but any of them could be sponsors that could make the difference between life and death.

And so the game begins.


End file.
